The Blooper Reel
by InChrist-Billios
Summary: The blooper reel to my story, "I Do, But That's It." Includes extra scenes from after the story, deleted scenes from within the story, AU scenes that may or may not happen, and a few chapters that make fun of myself. It should serve amusing to read.
1. Epilogue

**Welcome to the first installment of The Blooper Reel! **

**Here's your key to navigating this confusing compilation. Just inside the chapter will be a small list of clarifying features, so you know what you are about to read. Here is the list for this chapter.**

_**Title: Epilogue**_

_**Type: Extra Scene**_

_**Genre: General**_

_**Explanation: A little epilogue so you can see what becomes of our heroes after the story ends. Beware! It's not all happy-go-lucky! Note: This is one of the longest installments. Most are just a scene or two.**_

**Title, Genre, and Explanation are pretty self explanatory, but other Types of segments may be: ****Deleted Scene****, ****AU Possibility****, or ****Behind the Scenes****. **

**The difference between an ****Extra Scene**** and a ****Deleted Scene**** is whether or not the scenes occur in the storyline. ****Extras**** happen generally after the fic, whereas ****Deleted Scenes**** are ones that I had to cut in the process of writing the story.**

**An ****AU possibility**** is a "What if...?" scene.**

**A ****Behind the Scenes**** is just, basically, me making fun of myself and/or my characters. Meant to be humorous, whether it works or not.**

**I hope that helps you so you don't get confused or lost. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! And, of course, I'd love reviews. Thank you!**

* * *

Celeste laughed, pushing Jody. The push didn't budge the solid man, but he did smile.

"Look at it!" she cried, jumping excitedly and grabbing his arm. "Just _look_ at it!"

"I am, Celeste," he said, admiring the stable framework of the spacious cottage.

"Look, look!" she shrieked, pulling him into the house.

It was even bigger than it looked on the inside. Celeste pointed at the elegant stairway going up.

"There are _two_ levels!" she said, her voice going higher in pitch.

"You couldn't tell that from the outside?" Jody asked, chuckling.

Celeste didn't hear him, as she was already exclaiming over the next thing that caught her eye.

"There's a proper fireplace! With a chimney, no doubt! And a sitting room! With its own fireplace. And do you see the size of that kitchen? And look at—"

"I can see, I can see," he laughed, pulling his arm out of her hand before her mad dashes in multiple directions yanked it out of its socket.

"Ooooo," she squealed loudly, and hugged him tightly while bouncing up and down. "This is not a cottage; this is a _mansion!_"

She couldn't believe her eyes. When the Prince had said he'd build them a cottage, she hadn't been expecting _this._ He'd even finished the place with practical, sturdy furniture. The Prince seemed to know more about the people then Katharine did, though Celeste assumed that might be from his dreams.

She sighed, then giggled and looked up at Jody, grinning broadly. He seemed to be grinning at her more out of genuine amusement than wonder, she noticed.

"Stop laughing at me," she chided, but was unable to muster a stern look.

"I'm not laughing," he said truthfully, but his eyes twinkled.

She stuck out her lower lip and pouted.

"You were laughing in your head. I could tell."

"What? I'm getting punished for _not_ laughing when I know you won't appreciate it? That hardly seems fair."

"You shouldn't even be thinking it," she said, still pouting.

Jody poked her lower lip back inside her mouth.

"You're gonna catch flies on that," he teased.

She glared, then dragged him upstairs to see what was there.

* * *

The happy family thoroughly enjoyed their new cottage – though Celeste was right when she said it was more of a mansion than a cottage, but old habits die hard – which was the talk of the town. Jody's smithy out back was the envy of any blacksmith nearby, stocked as it was with top-quality tools and designed by the King's own blacksmith.

The spare rooms in their house were filled by a wide variety of people. Travelers often stayed the night, buying room and board with tales of faraway countries that fascinated the children. Suzie Jamison stayed with them for a year, even, after she had a falling out with Kayla. Jody and Celeste, surprised that Suzie had the capability to shout, nonetheless offered their home to her until she sorted things out at home. Mara Leigh was delighted to have someone who gave her undivided attention, and Celeste, who was heavily pregnant at the time, was happy to have a willing set of hands.

A few years after the war was over, Jody opened the door one day to find Joseph grinning ear to ear on his doorstep. With a sigh and a ruffling of hair, Joseph took the other spare bedroom and became another fixture in the Flannlin household for the next several years until he built a house of his own in town. The end of Suzie's stay overlapped with the beginning of Joseph's, and Celeste noticed with interest the permanent pink coloring in Suzie's cheeks, though she didn't mention anything.

Joseph did mention with a sort of stunned look that Suzie had "really grown up" since he'd seen her last, which only made her blush the more. When Joseph finally worked up the seriousness to ask her to the spring festival, her father answered for her with a flat, "No." The type that meant: "If you ever ask again, I do know how to wield a scythe." A few years of hanging around her doorstep finally paid off, though, when Chris grudgingly allowed the man into his house for a dinner. Kayla loved him almost as much as Suzie did, and the combined smiles of his two biggest girls finally melted his jealous heart enough to let Joseph begin seeing Suzie, though always supervised. Eventually, Joseph won Chris's heart, too, and he married Suzie on her nineteenth birthday.

Celeste had her first child just after Mara Leigh's third birthday, and she was ecstatic. For all she was concerned, Felise was just a living baby doll who cried. She spoiled her and taught her all the tricks of unlocking doors and sneaking away food you didn't want to eat, and in return, she gained Felise's undying affection.

When their younger brother, Connor, was born, they reluctantly let him into the group. He didn't want to be included, however, and spent most of his childhood slipping frogs and snakes into their beds when they weren't looking, much to Jody's and Joseph's amusement and Celeste's frustration. He had no interest in blacksmithing, preferring the wild work of farming to the cramped, stuffy forge. Mara Leigh, however, was fascinated by it. She was short and stocky, much like Lee, and hung back around the outer edge of the forge until one day, Jody decided to let her help. She hardly left the room after that.

She took over the blacksmithing business, which was, of course, very unconventional, but she was stubborn enough not to let wayward comments bother her. She married Tobias's son, Toby, and they opened a smithy/jeweler in Albertte, which had great success. Felise, who couldn't bear to let Mara Leigh have all the fun, married a baker in Albertte, and they lived four doors down from each other for the rest of their lives. Connor took after Jody, and mainly swore off women. He inherited his father's prodigious height, and thus used Jody's favorite line, that he was "looking for a woman tall enough" for him.

He bought more land that adjoined the cottage and farmed from the safety of his own home, spoiling his nieces and nephews whenever possible, until a gypsy woman caught his eye. While his parents watched in amusement, and some apprehension, they went through a whirlwind courtship and married six months after they met. She had always yearned for a real home, and was more than content to move into the spacious cottage that had been furnished by Roderic so many years before. Celeste was delighted that Connor had finally settled down. Jody lamented his son's loss of freedom. For all records, Virginia was six foot two.

* * *

"Roderic?" a whispered voice said next to his ear.

He glanced up, then back down at the document, trying to focus on it with blurry eyes.

"Yes, Katharine?" he said wearily, turning up the lamp.

"You need to get some sleep," she said, rubbing his shoulders and kissing his cheek.

Her hair tickled his face and he rubbed the itch away.

"I know, but I have to read this last document. I think the law seems fair, but I want to reread it, just to be sure," he explained, his mind focused on sorting through the legal jargon.

"Always thinking of other people," Katharine said ruefully, but with a hint of pride. "You're a magnificent king."

"I could not be half the king I am without you, dear," he said, looking up from his paper and smiling at her.

"Keep reading," she urged, "and hurry up. I want to go to bed."

"You do not have to wait for me," he said, amused, but turned back to the paper.

"I know," she said, "but it's dark in there and I'd rather wait. Besides, if I'm not here to remind you to go to bed, you might pick up another law-to-be and keep going."

"You have a point," he conceded, dragging his finger across the last few lines and signing the document. "There, now I can retire."

"Goody," she said with a smile, tugging him out of the side room. "I thought you were going to be ages. Get out of here before you think of something else you need to do."

He laughed and let her pull him through the door, locking it firmly behind him.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked, putting the key in the pocket of his jacket.

"Very," she said complacently, sliding under the coverlet.

He quickly dressed for bed, then joined her, yawning. She snuggled up against his chest and he kissed her hair.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered, tangling his fingers in hers.

"Goodnight," she sighed, and they easily drifted to sleep, all thoughts of royalty, parenthood, and stress far from their minds as they joined the magical, and blessedly dreamless, world of slumber.

* * *

Roderic was a wise king, and Katharine a clever talker. Between the two of them, peace reigned in Rijhad and Terriot for a great many years. They had seven children, to the mixed delight and shock of the general noble population.

"It is not as if we have not the resources or time to raise them well," Roderic had said after being accosted by a particularly nosy group of ladies and was in quite a temper. "I fail to see how this is any concern of yours."

Eventually, rumors of Katharine being loose died down, especially as each of the children had definite traits that tied them to their father, though all but one had their mother's dark hair.

The eldest, a flighty boy named Roderic Gollath Ryone, after his grandfathers, was a healthy and happy boy who grew up looking as handsome as his mother. He was followed by Caitlin Meriwether Diane, a wispy little sprite who was far more trouble than she looked, named after Katharine's cousin and Roderic's mother.

Jodi Everard and Johnathon William were next, a particularly difficult set of twins. Jodi was as bashful as Caitlin, but with far less courage, and Johnathon, with a head full of his father's blonde curls, was solemn and slow to act, reminding Katharine forcibly of Roderic.

After those twins came another set, even-tempered Fiona Grace, after Katharine's mother and aunt, and Andrew Derek, after Meriwether's husband. The girl was compassionate and very conscientious, which often made her the least favorite among the siblings, because she was always the first to tell. Andrew was eager to please, but with a sharp tongue to rebuke wrong-doers.

Last of all was Michael Gregory, a wild and unruly boy who was thoroughly delighted at being the youngest and getting the least attention, which left him more time to dream up pranks.

Shortly after giving birth to Michael, Katharine took ill and never fully recovered. She died a week before Michael's first birthday, leaving Roderic with a country and household to rule. He could not, of course, spend nearly enough time with the children, so he married soon thereafter to a widow from some distant connection to the royal family of Terriot. The countries were so integrated now that the treaty was just a formality, which saved him from marrying anyone far younger. They met twice before their marriage, and each time Roderic went to great pains to ensure that Lady Margaret did not mind. He half-heartedly offered her true queenship, but she refused vehemently.

"I don't want it," she said honestly, then added shrewdly, "And I do doubt your advisors would want me to have it. I'd ruin the country. I would much rather play with the children then examine laws and talk to courtiers."

She took immediately to the children, who all adored her, especially Michael, as he never had any woman but the nurse, and she didn't particularly coddle him. Although the older children secretly agreed that she was nothing like Mother, they swore to make do the best they could and not let Father see how much they missed her. And besides, they reassured each other, Mama (as they had begun to call her) did not try to take Mother's place. She just, had it, already, like she was made for it. Not a one of them resented her presence, and all of them loved her almost as much as they had loved Mother. Fifi, Drew, and Mikey, who couldn't remember Mother very well, hardly noticed the change in maternal units, and only Caitlin saw the difference it made on Father. He smiled less, and more wrinkles appeared around his eyes.

To make up for it, Roderic spent as much time with the children as he could spare, being the king, and their best memories were the times when Father had a rare week off and they went to castle Meilleur, in the countryside. They would take walks and horse rides there, or spend hours just lounging in the parlors, talking to each other. Once in a while, they coaxed Caitlin and Jodi to play a duet on the piano while Mama sang. Her voice was lovely, and hearing it made them all think of heaven and angels. Roddy or Fiona would glance anxiously at Father, to see what he thought, and they would find him smiling along, with a hand on Mama's arm. His smile, they noticed, was really happy and proud, as he looked at them all, content. It made Johnathon's heart swell up with joy.

Roderic was careful to make sure his children were cared for, sending Caitlin, Jodi, and Fiona to finishing school as soon as they were of age, and hand-selecting tutors for the boys. Roddy grew up with a level head on his shoulders and a good role model in his sights, leaving the fickleness of youth behind him at an early age, like his father. Unlike Roderic, however, he was more careful in who he listened to, and was slightly more cynical in his views on people. He fell in love with a soft-spoken young duchess when he was eighteen, courted her, and they married at twenty. Roderic met his first grandchild a year later: Katharine Margaret Alaceia, heir to the throne of Rijhad.

* * *

**Coming next: Jody/Celeste fluff!**


	2. JC Argument

**Note: I'm not going to be available for three weeks. I'll catch up on reviews, PMs, beta chapters, and everything else when I return. Have a great summer! Or winter, if you're in the southern hemisphere!**

**Title: JC fluff**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Genre: Romance**

**Explanation: It was originally supposed to take place near the end of the story, as you can tell from the context. In the grand scheme of things, though, it never worked out. It was too lighthearted and just—wrong, somehow. I couldn't bring myself to put it in, no matter how much I wanted to. This was also written before I'd really developed Jody's character to the point where he respected Roddy, as you can see.**

* * *

"So, everything is just my fault, isn't it?" Celeste exclaimed, taking a step back from him.

"That's not what I said," Jody began to say, slowly and evenly, but he was interrupted.

"You might as well have," she insisted, crossing her arms in a rather juvenile display of irritation that she never quite lost.

"Samantha growing up to be an idiot is not your fault, Lee dying is not your fault, our Prince being a wuss is not your fault, _none_ of this is your fault! I don't understand where you're coming from!" he argued.

"I don't understand where you're coming from either!"

"Then _why, _by golly, are we fighting?!" he yelled, throwing his hands into the air.

"Because you're stubborn!" she shouted angrily.

"And you're not," he said snidely. Celeste stomped her foot.

"Jody Flannlin! I've half a mind to slap you!" she declared.

"Let me make it easier for you," he said sarcastically, bending down so their eyes were level with each other and his face was only inches from hers. "Better?"

Celeste's eyes were flashing with indignation, and her cheeks were flushed with anger. Jody was almost knocked senseless by her very close proximity. As she hauled back to whack him a good one across the face, he leaned forward, for reasons he wasn't at all sure of, catching her right hand with his left and her lips with his own. Her struggle was only momentary, then she gave up and tentatively ran her fingers across his face with her free hand, moving closer to him.

"Get a room," Joseph said in disgust, and Celeste instantly backed away several feet, breathing hard.

"Golly," Jody said, trying to shake the fog from his mind.

* * *

**Next: Roderic/Katharine fluff!**


	3. RK Sleeping

**Title: RK Sleeping**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Genre: Romance**

**Explanation: I wrote it long before the end, in hopes that I could slip it in somewhere if I wrote Katty and Rod's return journey. But, alas. It was not meant to be. Enjoy the little section of fluff merely for what it is. And I think Roderic is slightly out of character. --wrinkles nose in distaste--**

* * *

Roderic was just drifting off to sleep when he felt something moving. The hazy picture of a muddy town snapped out of view and he pulled the blanket a little further over him, trying to ignore the sounds of everyone else breathing in the room. His blanket was lifted partially off of him, making him shrink back from the relative coolness, but it was quickly replaced. Someone slid next to him, and his eyes jerked open, heart racing.

Katharine's dark hair was barely visible in the moonlight, but he recognized her figure. She was facing away from him, hesitantly and gingerly edging toward him, obviously hoping not to wake him. He shut his eyes again, unwilling to embarrass her if she looked over. He couldn't repress a small shudder of delight when her back eased against his chest and her head rested just below his chin. He breathed in the smell of her hair and just gloried in the feeling of being so close to her.

She was so distant and cold, so hard to get close to, that now when she was pressed against him, it was staggering. Her slightly curled form radiated warmth, banishing any chill he might have retained from the brief lift of the blanket. His arm was precariously rested on his side, where he had pulled it back in surprise, and he waited 'til her breathing slowed to move it. Carefully, slowly, he slid it over her stomach, where it rested perfectly. His chin barely touched her forehead.

Sleep was untroubled.

When he woke in the morning, Katharine was still sleeping, and his other hand was underneath her head. He had a evanescent image of nuzzling her cheek and whispering "good morning", but that was quickly banished. _I do not think she would appreciate that._ A slightly more plausible idea of wiggling his fingers on her stomach to test her ticklishness also crossed his mind, but again, he couldn't find it in him to go through with that. He contented himself with a chaste kiss on the cheek, which took more courage than he thought he had, and gently rolled out of bed.

* * *

**Here's a bit of trivia for you that never quite made it into the story; when Katharine is touching Roderic while he sleeps, he doesn't dream. That way, he does have a bit of a break from dreaming. I would imagine it would get tiring.**

**Coming next: What if Samantha hadn't tried to kill Katharine?**


	4. Sam's Innocent

**Title: Sam's Innocent**

**Type: AU possibility**

**Explanation: I continue to blame **Faylinn** for any things Samantha/Johnathon, this among them. --grin-- It's what I hope to be an at least fairly realistic idea of a scene that might have happened if Samantha was not in any way involved with the plot to kill Katharine. Someone still did, and the rest of the story holds, but this little what-if caught my mind. It's probably my fascination with happy endings for all. Even though Samantha doesn't have one, I had to make one up.**

* * *

Johnathon walked down the corridor alone, as usual, on his way to a meeting with Roderic. The paintings on the walls told of picturesque streams, frigid mountains, and one picture of the woods in autumn. Katharine had painted that one, based on a dream setting Roderic had occasionally. He stared up at it, admiring her work. She was no brilliant master, but no one else could have painted it like her, because no one else knew the heart of Roderic like she did.

That reminded him of the rumor spreading like wildfire across the castle – Katharine was pregnant. Johnathon knew it wasn't a rumor, because Roderic, hardly able to contain his excitement, had confirmed it earlier that day. He smiled for them and walked on, considering ways to keep any discussion of children far at bay until they had discussed the new laws and battle tactics that were being suggested.

As he passed a doorway, he thought he heard a growl issue from it. With a startled frown, he quietly retraced a few steps and listened at the door, wondering if a servant child had found a lost dog and had brought him in. He heard another growl and a thump, but it didn't seem canine. A human was growling.

_Are some children playing?_ he thought, bewildered, but then he heard a loud, sad sigh and low murmurs. Unable to contain his curiosity, he opened the door noiselessly and looked in. A woman was sitting at a writing desk with her hand clenched in a tight fist. Another woman was standing over her, with a hand on her back, saying something to her. As he watched, she punched the desk with all her might, growled again, then burst into tears. The other woman rubbed her back and ran her fingers through her hair, crooning soothingly in her ear.

Johnathon was about to back out of the room when the woman looked up sharply, still running her hands through the crying woman's hair. He recognized Adelaide, and took three more steps quickly out in to the hall. Adelaide smiled, though Johnathon didn't know why, and shook her head. He stopped, eyebrows meeting in a frown. She pulled away from the crying woman, though she hardly seemed to notice, and strode toward him, her face in genuine earnest.

"I really have to report for kitchen duty," she said quickly, gripping his arm, "can you clean her up? If I'm late, Tia said she'll give me extra kitchen duty for a week."

"I really have to—" he started.

"Thank you!" she said in relieved happiness, and took off running down the corridor.

"Oh boy," he said nervously, stepping into the room.

He didn't even know _who_ he was comforting. He desperately hoped it was someone he knew. He approached the desk cautiously, trying to figure out who it was before she saw him. It was Samantha, he saw with a jolt, sobbing her heart out onto the rough wood. He rubbed her back, feeling awkward just standing there, then knelt by her side.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She looked over sharply, saw that it was him, then turned back to the desk. Her eyes were red and not at all pretty, streaming with tears.

"Roderic," she spat.

"What did he do?" he asked, not comprehending how Roderic could have made her cry.

"He—they—without—and never—I can't—how could—she's never—!"

"Slow down, slow down," he said soothingly, rubbing his hand in a circle on her back. "What did he do?"

She took a few gulps of air, wiped her face with the skirt of her dress, sniffed twice, and looked at him.

"They're having a _baby_," she said scathingly. "They don't even love each other."

Johnathon wisely did not refute her obviously biased view of the relationship.

"Or, she doesn't love him, anyway," Samantha corrected. "He loves her, and it kills me, because she's not even _capable _of love. He doesn't know what it feels like to love someone, and have them truly love you back. I did, at least for a little while."

"I think she does love him, in her own way," Johnathon said quietly. "But her way is different than yours, and different than Roderic's."

"Because it's not there," she said hotly.

"Well, whether or not it's there, I'm still failing to understand why their having a child has driven you to this point."

"Because there's no way he can be _happy_ with her!" she cried.

Her excuse sounded hollow, but Johnathon filled it in with the glaring truth. She was simply jealous and that was all there was too it. _Women. Can't they let things go?_ he lamented, but all the same, he felt a fondness for her that he couldn't rationalize.

"You need to let him go," Johnathon said. "He's a big boy now, and he's made his decision."

"The _wrong_ decision,_" _she said heatedly.

He said nothing, and she whirled on him, brown eyes snapping angrily.

"You think he made the right decision, don't you?" she accused.

"I do," he said, standing his ground. "Morally, he put his priorities in the right order. And," he said, talking over whatever she was saying next to disagree with him, "there's nothing you could do to change his mind. You need to get over him and find someone who really cares for you as much as you deserve to be cared for. You're a marvelous woman, full of potential, and grit, and enthusiasm. You've got a big heart, and people will see that. You've got a sense of humor, you're fun to be around, and, hang it, you're pretty too. It won't take long for some lucky guy to notice. You just need to move on and realize that your whole life doesn't have to be wrapped up in one person. Do you really want to throw away your life for someone who will never love you the same way?"

"He deserves it," she said, but her voice was weak.

"No, he doesn't," Johnathon said quietly. "You've got a lot to offer the world. Don't keep it waiting."

She was silent for several minutes, pondering what he had said. He thumbed her shoulders absently, running his hand along her back without thinking.

"Thank you, Johnathon," she said after the pause.

Her eyes were red and heartbroken, but rather than feeling like yelling at her for taking so long to realize that, he just felt like grinning.

"You're welcome. Any time," he said with a grin.

She hugged him sideways from where she sat, and sighed into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?" she asked, half in jest.

"You wouldn't have listened," he said truthfully.

She laughed hollowly and pulled away.

"You're probably right."

He felt like offering to take her somewhere to get her mind off things, or just do something else for her, but he realized that his part was over. Adelaide and the girls could do their men-bashing thing and go try on ball gowns or something, but there was nothing else a man could do.

"I better go. I have somewhere to be," he said, standing and letting his arm fall from her back.

She nodded, and smiled again. He started to walk for the door.

"Wait, Johnathon?" she called.

She turned around. She was grinning impishly, though it didn't disguise her sadness.

"You wanna... do something with me tomorrow?"

He considered it, weighing her well-being against the opportunities it offered. _You probably have more sense than her friends,_ he reasoned with himself. _Just make sure she's not rebounding onto you._ he warned himself, though the thought surprised him. Would she? After such a heartbreak, it wouldn't surprise him. She could be stunningly insecure, and after having a man to hang on for so long...

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," he said finally. "Spend the day with your friends. Maybe we can do something another time."

"Another time," she said firmly, nodding, but seeming surprised at his refusal.

_She doesn't think of you like that,_ he thought with annoyance, but relief. Before anything else could happen, he walked out the door.

* * *

**Coming next: Jody… drunk? (That's what I thought too. That's why I deleted it.)  
**


	5. Jody Drunk

**Announcement! NAPAN (Not All Princes Are Nice) has been updated at last! If you were reading it, or if you'd like to start now, run over and check it out.**

**Title: Jody Drunk**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: I had to see where this would go. --grin-- I believe everyone's pretty much in character, except Jody. Obviously. This was where Jody was originally going to go after Celeste told him she loved him, instead of running off to the army. It got cut for pacing reasons, and probably because I couldn't bear to do this to Jody, no matter how 'realistic' it might be.**

**General note: Remember that all these scenes are unpolished. I feel a twitch coming on for the non-perfectness...**

* * *

Celeste finished the last stitch in Mara Leigh's quilt and let it rest on her swollen abdomen, admiring it by the firelight. Her momentary distraction of sewing had been terminated at last, and she found herself worrying for Jody again. How long would he be gone? He had left in a fit of anger, promising nothing, but he was usually back by now.

Jody had common sense, he wouldn't do anything stupid, would he? He took a long walk and lost track of time, that was all. She looked outside in the black of night.

_Not likely._

The sun had set hours ago, and still he had not returned. Celeste was starting to fear a Philettin raiding party had found him, and was on the verge of grabbing a lantern to search the near proximity when she heard a horse clip-clopping up the road. She looked out the window and tried to see if the horse would pass or turn in, but managed nothing when the light was so bright behind her. She opened the door to meet the horse nose-to-nose.

"Oh!" she gasped, startled, and hopped backward a little.

Matthias, the carpenter, tipped his hat politely from the top of the horse.

"Good evening, Celeste. I thought I would drop Jody off. He doesn't hold his liquor well at all."

With that surprising speech and another tipping of the hat, Matthias rode off, leaving Jody standing unsteadily on the ground.

"Oh Jody," Celeste gasped, surprised and scared at the same time.

Jody had never been one to drink, and she highly doubted he'd had more than four beers in his whole life. The glassy eyes and faltering balance told her he'd had a lot more than four this evening.

"Oh Jody," she repeated, this time in a sigh, "why did you do that?"

She took his arm and started walking inside. He looked at her vaguely, as if unsure who she was.

"Who're you?" he slurred, confirming her belief.

They stepped into the cottage.

"I'm Celeste, you know me," Celeste said calmly, though her heart was pounding.

How did one deal with drunken men? What if he went into a rage?

"C'lest," Jody repeated, "right right. So I'm home?"

"Yes you certainly are, and you need to get some sleep."

"'m not sleepy," Jody protested.

He didn't look sleepy at all, either. Perhaps the alcohol hadn't taken effect yet.

"Just lay down, alright?" Celeste said, pointing to his blankets on the floor.

"Don' wanna leddown. I wanna sit."

"Oh okay, sitting is good," Celeste said, biting her lip.

Jody sat on the end of the bed and motioned for her to do the same. She obliged, trembling.

"Sorry I left in hurry," he said, training his glazed stare at her eyes.

She shuddered involuntarily; the sick feeling of disappointment and fear was lifting in front of her vision.

"It's alright. It's getting late, howabout you go to sleep."

"It's not alright," Jody insisted blearily. "A man should treat his wife better than that and I 'poligize."

"I forgive you," she said. "Now will you sleep?"

"Will you give me a goodnight kiss?"

"Excuse me?" she said, taken aback.

"Willya gimme a g'night kiss?" he repeated, leaning toward her a little.

"Jody," she squeaked, not recognizing the odd look on his face.

She was terrified. She could see that he was starting to get angry, so she quickly decided on the lesser of two evils.

_This wasn't exactly when I wanted to first kiss him, _she thought, _especially since he probably won't remember in the morning. _Nevertheless, angering him while he was drunk was a much worse option. So, she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against his own. She suddenly forgot that he was drunk and wouldn't remember this, she only felt the wild joy of the moment as his hands caressed her hair and held her close.

She broke apart with a gasp and took a step back, her hands flying to her stomach. Jody looked disconcerted.

"She's kicking," Celeste whispered, voice quivering with the rush of emotions she had just experienced.

Jody put his hand on hers, feeling the tiny bumps as Mara Leigh exercised.

"It's time to sleep," Celeste reminded him.

"Sleep," Jody murmured, eyes fluttering.

Then, he sank to the floor on top of the blankets and began snoring. Celeste tried to calm her wildly beating heart as she went back to the main room. Her mouth tasted like alcohol, something she'd never really acquired the taste for, but she hardly noticed. Jody had initiated the kiss, he had asked for it. Granted, he was drunk, but that must mean he felt something for her. Unless it was just a masculine instinct... She held her head in cold hands, trying to calm down.

* * *

**Coming next: Roddy and a peasant**


	6. Rain Girl

**Another announcement! Not All Books Should Be Read is started again! If you were reading that, or would like to now, it should be on the Fairy Tales home page since I just updated.**

**Title: Rain Girl**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: I typed it up on the spur of the moment, and was hoping to slide it in during Roderic, Meri, and Jo²'s search for Katharine. It was cut for pacing reasons. I do like it, though. It needs a bit of touching up, but you should know that already.**

* * *

A woman stood, tilting her face upward into the rain and smiling softly, secretly, while the water streamed down her neck, soaking her dress and cloak. Curious, he set his drink down and pushed open the door, stiffening at the cold push of the wind. It splayed his cloak behind him and chilled him instantly. Leaning against the wall of the building, he pulled it against himself once more, trying to understand the strange peasant. She lifted her shoulders up, slightly, and a grin split her homely face, then she dropped them again and exhaled. She knew he was watching. She would not have done that purely for her own benefit.

Now that he could see her better, not through the rippling glass, he could tell that she wasn't a woman after all, or, at least, not quite. She seemed to be on the verge of adulthood, with her modest length dress and tightly knotted hair, but she had a distinctly girlish figure. Instead of embracing her blossoming womanhood, however, she chose to toss it aside and stand, barefooted, in a mud puddle.

Why?

Her hair was already bedraggled, curling limply in protest to the wetness, and her dress was now a mere extension of her skin; it had ceased to disguise any figure whatsoever. Not that it would have hidden much, Roderic would have had to admit, (had he even thought to think of it) but propriety was lost, at any rate.

"What are you doing?" Roderic asked, taking a few steps from the protection of the roof and pulling his cloak's hood over his head.

Rain spun down the fabric in a dizzying tailspin.

"Enjoying the rain," she murmured with almost ridiculous elan, given the pointedly unreformed state of the rest of her.

"Surely you can enjoy it indoors?" he asked, his voice also dropping to match hers.

It almost blended in with the rippling hum of the rain.

"No."

The one word answer was final, but bore no scorn or ill-will. It was a simple, straightforward answer. She lifted her hands slightly, letting the thin currents of water trace her knuckles and dive off the edge of her fingers. Her eyes were closed, thick lashes, soaked and bunched, laying flat on her sun-browned cheeks.

The water's paths were varied, first coursing on either side of her snub nose, then straight down the middle and onto her lips, then over her eyelids and down her cheek like a tear. Each trail was forged and ended in less time than it took to fully understand its complexity. They were constantly each replaced by another, and the simple, untamed beauty of common water astounded Roderic. He watched the water flow over his own hand, sliding around his soft skin and over the new callouses. She watched him, barely, from her scarcely raised lids, and another secret smile slid onto her mouth.

"Don't forget to look," she said to him, closing her eyes again.

She lifted her hands almost over her head and splashed an unreal dance into the muddy street's puddle. Her feet lifted and dropped, sending waves of brown water cascading to the edge of the puddle, lapping at Roderic's boots. And, just as suddenly, she stopped again, the dirt's grainy residue lingering up to her ankles.

He nodded, knowing that she couldn't see him, and re-entered the restaurant. His near silence was disguised by the laughing rain, a sound that followed him into the noisy indoors.

* * *

**Coming next: Rod finds Katty, take one.**


	7. Rod Yells, Katty Reveals

**Title: Rod Yells, Katty Reveals**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: The first part was typed up a long while ago, and the second part was more recent. The first part came about because I _had_ to imagine Rod yelling. Ha. This was my original idea for how Katty would be found, before I decided to tie in Kayla and Celeste at their cottage. I'm not sure where I thought she would be, except, obviously, underground. The second part is hazardous to your health, and has a warning break to save those faint of heart. The only reason I even continued typing the second part (Cadmus was practically yanking the emergency break on my fingers) was that I know Katharine was thinking all of this. It's terribly out of character for her – she FEELS everything I have her feeling, and THINKS everything she says, but she would NEVER act out or say any of that. Maybe, one day, but not then. It was to give myself, and later, you, a better understanding of her character: something I did not accomplish to the extent I was hoping in the story itself. --aggravated sigh-- So, anyway, the first part should be amusing. **

**It took a great deal of effort not to correct things. But, this is a rough segment. Rough, Billi. --twitch--**

**As a reiteration, because the last half of this makes me wince and gag, Katharine is OUT OF CHARACTER. Roderic might be too, to some extent, but I can't quite tell because Katty is so terrifically awful.**

* * *

Roderic ran, ignoring the nagging thought that he would probably trip over something he couldn't see in the ill-lit corridor. When it turned sharply to the right, he skidded, narrowly avoiding a full-frontal confrontation with the wall, and ran into a person.

"Excuse me, could you watch where you're – highness!"

"Get out of my way!" Roderic said, shoving the man aside from the door he was guarding and wrenching it open.

"Sire, you – "

He slammed the door behind him and looked around wildly. A fireplace burned brightly in one corner, and many lanterns illuminated the comfortable room. Katharine was sitting in an armchair. She looked up at him and rose gracefully to her feet.

"My lord," she curtsied demurely.

He felt the doubt and fear ebb, giving way to fury rising in his chest.

"I thought you were _dead!_" he yelled, stalking over to her and grabbing her shoulders, forcing her attention on him. "Don't you even _care _what that did to me? Forget me – to the country? We're dealing with civil war here! And me, marrying your cousin. D'you _know _how many sleepless nights I spent thinking about you, wishing I had one more minute to talk to you? Do you even care?"

He shook her, staring furiously into her eyes, the eyes that had once tormented him. She stared back, her expression impossible to read.

"Do you care that I thought my heart had been torn out and ripped apart? That there was a hole there I couldn't explain away? Do you _care?_ At _all?_"

Suddenly, relief flooded through him. She was not dead. She was safe. And comfortable. His knees weakened and he let go of her shoulders.

"I am sorry, for yelling," he said, lowering his eyes. "I know you did not do it on purpose, that you did not have a choice, I just – "

"I know," she interrupted, smiling slightly. "That's why I didn't stop you. You should probably vent your anger more often. And did you know, while you were yelling, you used a lot of contractions."

"Did I?"

She nodded, then hugged him fiercely.

"I missed you," she said softly.

He enfolded her in a tight embrace, inhaling the smell of her hair.

"I missed you too."

* * *

**STOP READING TO SAVE SANITY**

* * *

She took a step back.

"I need to talk to you," she said seriously, her lips pinching together and twisting off to the side.

She sat in a chair and motioned for him to sit in the one next to it.

"About what?" Roderic asked seriously, barely restraining himself from fondling her smooth hands. He just wanted to touch her, to be sure that she was really alive.

"I've been an idiot," she said succinctly. "An absolute knave. I haven't given a fig for anyone but myself, especially you, and I've been completely juvenile when it's come to our relationship. I don't know how much Johnathon has told you, but let me just put it all out there. I met him soon after our marriage, and had developed a sort of friendship with him. Well, as much of a friendship as anyone like me could have had. In any respect, he gave me a lot of good advice, and helped me work out my 'understanding' gift from the fairies.

"It really just gave me a sort of feeling about people, which made it increasingly difficult to keep in my mind that you were a foolish conniving man. I could understand that you were honest, but I couldn't accept it. I also got the feeling that Johnathon was beginning to feel a little differently about me, though he was keeping it strictly under his power. After seeing you with Samantha, I began to slowly come onto him. I suppose it was because I was jealous, but I didn't think of it like that. It just made sense to me. Johnathon was reluctant at first but, well, you saw what happened.

"I lost it when you told me you loved me; I couldn't believe you would love me when I had been anything but wonderful to you, and did the only thing I could think of doing. I had to get rid of you. That look on your face never really left me. You were in pain. I didn't think about having to deal with that, and I didn't know how much it would feel like driving a wedge into my own heart. That morning, I was scared I was going to lose you, and I almost couldn't bring myself to let you go. I was still selfish, though, and I just wanted you because you cared about me even more than I did.

"These past weeks have changed me more than I knew could be possible. Believe when I say I'm totally different now."

She laughed a little, clearing her throat.

"Peasant life has a way of doing that to a person, so I'm told."

He chuckled a little, without humor.

"What happened to you? I know that second group had you for a few days before the Underground found you."

Her expression darkened and she rubbed her arms. It struck Roderic that she seemed smaller than she had before, like she was no longer demanding so much attention.

"Well, you know, they didn't like me very much. It wasn't exactly a picnic."

She suddenly trembled, that slight tremor that Roderic could identify with only three situations; the storm, the nightmare, and talking about it afterwards. Something must have happened.

"What did they do to you?" he asked, a growl in his voice he hadn't intended to put there.

"Left me in the dark, mostly," she said in small voice, swallowing, "but they had to have some fun, too. They had to find some great ways to mangle me, so when they actually killed me and threw my body somewhere everyone would know I died gruesomely."

Before Roderic had the chance to respond, she pushed up the sleeves of her dress, all the way up to the shoulders. On the olive skin were precise crosshatches, obviously burnt in by a branding iron of some sort, from just above the wrist and continuing past the bunched fabric at her shoulders. She swiveled her arms, and Roderic saw the same ugly pattern on the thinner, more fragile skin of her underarm. It was still red on that side, though the other side seemed mostly scarred.

"In the name of peace," he murmured, forcing down a lump in his throat.

She let the sleeves fall, and Roderic looked at her expression. Almost neutral; almost her mask, but not quite. She pulled the neckline of her dress over to one side, and Roderic saw where the burns ended, just before her neck. Without thinking, he put a hand on the skin there, feeling the raised, angry wounds under his fingers. Katharine wasn't looking at him, staring resolutely at the floor.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, moving his hand to rub her jawbone with his thumb.

"Just... don't leave me again, alright?" she said, in that small voice again that was so unlike her.

Her eyes were wide and frightened, and Roderic thought he might have seen the beginnings of tears. He pulled her into a tight hug again, and she laid her head on his shoulder, gripping him with a sort of scared aura.

"I will not, if I can help it," he promised, whispering into her ear.

She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes definitely sparkling with unshed tears. Roderic decided that she was quite possibly the prettiest he had seen her at that moment. Her hair was carelessly kept, not at all shiny, and her cosmetics had, of course, been foregone, but the innocence and reliance that shone in her eyes made her beautiful to Roderic.

_Finally, someone trusts me to do something,_ he thought victoriously, but was soon lost in her eyes. They pulled him into their dark depths, and he found himself closing the inches that separated them. He neared tentatively, but the look in her eyes begged him not to stop moving. Her eyes fluttered closed a moment before he kissed her, smoothly and soundly, like he had longed to do for such a long time. Even after he pulled back, her eyes were closed still, and her lips slightly parted.

"Why do you love me, Roderic?" she asked, murmured. "Really," her eyes still shut.

"Because I cannot help it," he replied with a small smile, and kissed her again, soft and sweet.

* * *

**When she says, "****That morning, I was scared I was going to lose you, and I almost couldn't bring myself to let you go." That's from another scene I was planning to put in and didn't get to. You'll see it later.**

**This was also before I decided on vampires, as you can see. I opted for burning rather than cutting.**

**Coming next: A partial songfic, to an Avril Lavigne song. (Yes, you may make strange faces)**


	8. Songfic

**Title: Songfic**

**Type: Extended Scene**

**Explanation: ****I heard this song for the first time and was completely hooked. The music video brought tears to my eyes. Eventually, the constant replaying part of my brain intermingled with the I Do plotting section. That combination, plus late night inspirational qualities, came up with this cruddy type partial-sonfic thing. My original intention was to translate this from songfic to prose in appropriate parts, but that never showed up, either.  
**

**The song is "When You're Gone" by Avril Lavigne. If you haven't heard it, I'd suggest you look up the music video on YouTube and listen/watch before you read.**

* * *

_I always needed time on my own_

Katharine dropped her forehead onto her hand, feeling it jostle with the wagon's movement. A traitorous tear dripped unnoticed onto the permeable wood.

_I never thought I'd need you there when I cry_

She slapped it away angrily, making her captors glance over at her strangely, but only for a moment. They were soon engaged in their conversation again. She was, possibly for the first time, utterly alone.

_And the days feel like years when I'm alone_

She rolled over on the blanket, not yet used to the rocks and roots sticking into her back.

_And the bed where you lie_

It struck her suddenly how empty the blanket was next to her.

_Is made up on your side_

She'd gotten used to Roderic being there if she ever woke in the night: a comforting, calm presence to put her back to sleep, knowing there was no danger. She hadn't slept properly since he left.

_When you walk away_

It took all of her self control to keep herself anchored to the spot. She didn't know she'd feel like a part of her was leaving too.

_I count the steps that you take_

Five... six... seven... Katharine, what's wrong with you?

_Do you see how much I need you right now?_

She locked herself into the parlor after he left, trying to sort herself out. She stared in the mirror for hours, examining the lines, the curves, and the shapes spelled onto her visage, as if they could give her an answer.

_When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you_

She gripped the gilded frame, and the mirror tilted so it reflected the outdoors, hot and wild.

_When you're gone, the face I came to know is missing too_

She could almost see Roderic, dragging her by the hand across the field. She shook her head. Roderic would never drag her anywhere.

_When you're gone the words I need to hear to always get me through the day_

What she missed most, she realized as she was jostling along, was the conversation. It meant nothing, and yet it meant everything.

_And make it okay_

There was something that went unsaid, and something she couldn't feel, but she could feel its loss, something.

_I miss you_

She gritted her teeth and ground her fist into the wood.

I don't.

_I've never felt this way before_

Roderic negotiated the plans for her funeral, his heart beating its own thrum of anguish against his chest.

_Everything that I do_

A piece of parchment in front of him swam in front of his eyes.

_Reminds me of you_

He could see her handwriting on it as she chuckled about Sir Pendegrast in is ear. He blinked and the floor plan reappeared.

_And the clothes you left_

He walked into the room on his first night back, trying to wipe the exhaustion off his face with his hand. He just noticed her dress, neatly laid out for the next day's use.

_they lie on my floor_

Did no one think to put it away? The maroon looked like blood now, rich and flowing. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

_And they smell just like you_

He couldn't resist for long, though, and after he'd readied himself for bed, he took the dress in his hands. It was smooth and silky and as he held it close to him, he smelled her. His heart twanged again and he put it back with shaking hands.

_I love the things that you do_

He saw her in his mind's eye, making a barbed comment with a sparkle in her eyes.

_When you walk away_

You cannot come back, either.

_I count the steps that you take_

What is the point in counting if I can't follow?

_Did you see how much I need you right now?_

He slid under the covers and closed his eyes. Only then, in the silence and darkness, did he let himself cry.

* * *

**You can laugh, it's alright. I almost killed Cadmus for this one.**

**Coming next: A behind-the-scenes look at the making of I Do.  
**


	9. And, Action!

**Title: And, Action!**

**Type: Behind the Scenes  
**

**Explanation: ****It was written after I, with mounting frustration, realized that I'd slipped up once again with Roderic's lack of contracting. In an aggravated mood, I scrawled out this little number, (from Chapter Eighteen) which made me feel slightly better. **

* * *

"Please believe me when I say with all sincerity that I don't think of you – ah, in that manner."

He paused and cleared his throat a little in embarrassment.

"I'm happy that we're friends, and I want nothing more than that."

"Well, I do," Katharine said seductively, leaning forward and raising her eyebrows.

"_WHAT?!_" Roderic yelped, jumping back and falling off the bed.

Katharine burst into laughter, clutching her stomach and practically crying. Roderic appeared, more disheveled, on the other side of the bed.

"Cut, cut, cut," he said, glaring at Katharine. "What, in the name of peace, was _that_ about?"

"Contractions!" Katharine pointed out gleefully, pulling the blankets that had fallen off the bed with Roderic.

Roderic's head disappeared with a cry and a thump as she yanked the blankets out from under him. This only proceeded to make her laugh harder.

A frazzled looking woman groaned into her clipboard. Why did she decide to make him never use contractions? It was harder than it sounded, and Clare had already pointed out several scenes where he used them, unbeknownst to her. Re-shooting had been rushed and frustrating.

"It was going to be scrapped, anyway," Katharine said when she had regained her breath. Roderic was straightening the blankets on the bed. "I thought I might as well make it funny."

"Funny? Ohhh," he groaned. "What are we going to do with you?"

Katharine adopted the look of a naïve Disney princess and leapt to her feet, nightgown swirling in the non-existent breeze. She threw her arms out dramatically.

"_You'll love me at once, you'll love me at once,"_ she sang, high and off-key, then fell backward into his arms.

Roderic, startled, caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and fluttered her eyelashes, obviously enjoying the stunned look she had put on his face.

"You saved my life," she said, giggling obnoxiously.

"SCENE!" the woman bellowed, waving her clipboard to try and regain their attention.

When that failed, and Roderic only murmured something nervously in her ear that made her laugh (it sounded teeth-grinding-ly like tinkling bells), the woman turned to the lithe blue dragon beside her.

"Cadmus, do something," she said nastily.

The dragon didn't even look up from his portable chalkboard, where he was sketching a portrait of the two. The woman peered at it, cocking her head to the side. Now, _that_ was a cliché pose. But, if—

She shook her head and looked back to the couple.

"Well," she sighed, defeated, "if we're not going to go on... Where'd you put those sketches, Caddy?"

He wordlessly flicked his tail in the direction of the larger chalkboard to his right, where "Chapter Nineteen" was scrawled in hasty, fiery looking script.

"Brilliant," she said, by way of thanking him, and pulled out her battered composition book. "I might as well start the next scene."

And she did.

* * *

**Coming next: Katty doing laundry with Celeste and the children.**


	10. Katty Laundry

**Title: Katty Laundry**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: **SIMBA** gave me a bit of an idea for this, and I had to write it. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see as much of the Jamisons as I would have liked, due to pacing and other things of the sort.**

* * *

Katharine gingerly took a large wet shirt and pinned it up. Celeste smiled, catching it before it hit the ground.

"Here, do it more like this," she said, demonstrating to Katharine how to pin the shirt up without getting it dirty.

Michele and Steve were standing on chairs on either side of Katharine, talking to her and through her as they pinned up clothes in orderly rows.

"What does your Daddy do?" Michele asked Katharine, securing Mara Leigh's diaper to the line before grabbing a pair of Pete's pants.

"He's a king," Katharine said, awkwardly clipping one of Michele's small dresses to the line and glancing at Celeste for affirmation.

Celeste nodded.

"What does a king do, 'zactly?" Michele asked curiously.

"Fights in wars!" Steve was quick to supply, almost falling off his chair and into the wet laundry in his excitement.

"Yes," Katharine agreed. "But they also make laws and make sure that the kingdom is happy."

"That's a big job," Michele observed.

"Yes, it is," Katharine said, pulling another piece of laundry from the basket and starting to hang it up.

She froze when she saw what she was holding. Michele noticed that she had stopped working and looked over.

"What's wrong?" she asked innocently, then saw the offending article of clothing. "Daddy's underwear is the biggest," she commented, then returned to pinning up one of Celeste's dresses without missing a beat.

Celeste couldn't help laughing, though she covered the sound by flapping a piece of laundry loudly, as if to rid it of wrinkles. By the time she'd wiped the smile off her face, Katharine had pinned the underwear to the line, and was now looking more carefully at what she was grabbing from the basket.

If Michele and Steve had more underwear to hang up, they never noticed.

* * *

**Coming next: What if Katharine did die?**


	11. Meri::Rod

**Title: Meri-Rod**

**Type: AU Possibility**

**Explanation: I just wondered a bit what might happen if Katharine had been murdered. Rod would marry Meri, of course. How would those two marrying each other change their personalities over time? It was an interesting exploration. **

* * *

She lay with her head on Roderic's lap, her hand resting comfortably on his chest. His fingers idly ran through her hair and his eyes were faraway. Her eyes were unfocused too, drowsily familiar with everything and not bothering to stay alert. She yawned widely and pulled her arm from where it had fallen over the edge of the pillowed couch, resting it over her stomach.

The dim evening light filtered through the peach curtains, making the whole room faintly pink. Roderic shifted his pose to accommodate her new position, his left hand moving to her leg for balance. After a few minutes, he yawned too.

"Ah, you caught it," she said with a grin, tipping her chin up and grinning at him.

He smiled down at her and gently pulled a lock of her brown hair.

"It is a sleepy evening," he said.

She yawned and stretched again, her hand brushing his unshaved chin.

"Ow!" she said in surprise, rubbing her hand.

"I am sorry," he said, rubbing his chin with his left hand. "I have not shaved today."

"Yeah, I could tell," she chuckled, poking his chin again. "It's very prickly."

"Oh, is it?" he said, rubbing his cheek against hers so she laughed.

"Aww, Rod, I'm going to have a rugburn on my face," she whined exaggeratedly.

"My deepest apologies," he said insincerely, quirking his mouth into a smile to match hers.

The gap between them was only about an inch in breadth, and they just looked at each other, eyes sparkling for a moment, before Roderic sat back up and continued working through her hair.

"You should try to grow a beard," she said, thumbing his cheek in interest.

"I do not think I would look good in a beard," he said, laughing.

"You're only worried it will be grey," she teased.

"Oh, that was a low blow, Meri."

"Your Highnesses?"

Meriwether quickly sat up and swept her hair out of her face before calling out.

"Come in."

A messenger stepped into the room, holding a scroll.

"You have been invited to the wedding of one Nobleman Andrew of Terriot. Your royal schedulers didn't know who that was, and so sent me to ask you if you would like to attend."

Meriwether had gone stiff at Roderic's side. He put a hand on hers without looking over and calmly replied.

"No, we will not be attending. Thank you."

"With pleasure. King Roderic, Queen Meriwether."

With a curt nod at both monarchs, he stepped from the room.

* * *

**Coming next: Johnathon being far too chivalrous**


	12. Samantha Drunk

**Title: Samantha Drunk**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: **Faylinn**'s review of I Do (I can't recall which chapter, exactly, at the moment) inspired this little mess. It's the scene we don't see where Samantha is drunk in town the night Katharine is "murdered". What a convenient alibi, hm? As we all know, she _did _attempt to murder Katharine, so her acting tipsy here must all be a show. Keep that in mind as you read. Dedicated to** Faylinn**'s imagination.**

* * *

Johnathon barely lifted his eyes from his watered down whiskey, just enough to reassure himself that Samantha hadn't passed out yet. He asked himself why he was still here. _You don't even like drinks,_ he reminded himself with a touch of irony, swishing the almost clear liquid in the glass tumbler. _Maybe you just have a thing for dark haired girls,_ he thought, ironic again. He gripped the tumbler tighter, and his fingers paled, remembering that evening and the terrible weeks before it.

It had progressed so quickly, he had lost his head. Their bi-weekly meetings increased in frequency, and she was always careful to touch him in some friendly way, whether a brush of the arm, a touch of her foot, always with calm nonchalance, like it shouldn't bother him because it wasn't bothering her. He began to expect that touch, that brief, electrifyingly guilty warmth. It was soon accompanied with a small smile, one that never quite reached her eyes. On that evening, she had come in the same as usual, but she sat closer to him, was more animated when she spoke, smiled more, and seemed to have more trouble keeping her hair behind her half-bared shoulder.

He wasn't thinking straight, but even he knew something wasn't right. So, when she backed him into a corner and went beyond the casual and concealed flirting, he panicked. He regretted hitting her, he truly did, but all the same, he almost wished he had hit her harder. It would have been easier to bear that on his conscience. When she fell to the floor with a muted gasp, his chivalry was torn to pieces. It pulled him to the floor, stuttering an apology and gripping her hands. Her hair had fallen over her face, but her shoulders jerked, like she was taking short gasps of breath. Without thinking, he pulled her hair aside and tucked it behind her ear. He pulled his hand back as her eyes met his, unreadable as always. She wrapped her slim fingers around his hand, and guided it down, resting on her side. He could feel the swelling where he had hit her, but he could also feel her heartbeat, irresistibly close to where his hand was spread. When she kissed him this time, he kissed her back. And then, Roderic came.

A squeal shook him back to the present and a brief head-bob assured him it was merely a joke that Samantha, naturally, found inappropriately funny. He took another sip of hardly-liquor, bearing the bitter taste as it slid down his throat. Another subtle glance showed Samantha, still giggling with Adelaide and another girl from town. He sighed, once again wondering why he was still here, long after his friends had called it a night.

Kissing her had been one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made. He knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, that she probably didn't care for him, but he had allowed himself a fantasy. When the fantasy seemed to be realized, he stopped thinking and let himself live it out, almost like he was controlling himself indirectly. The memories he held were from a higher vantage point, observing him and her like an objective witness. It was a stretch of the imagination he should never have let progress as far as it had, making it all the more dangerous.

And, he realized with a deeper sigh and a large swallow that finished his drink, he probably didn't care about her either. The bartender quirked an eyebrow at him. Johnathon shifted his eyes unobtrusively to monitor Samantha's progress. She was still giggling. He nodded and the tumbler was refreshed. It was only his second, and he had been there since three, talking and exchanging news with people he knew as they wandered in and out. It was now – he looked at the cracked clock hanging crookedly over the mantle – almost one o'clock. _I should get an award, for the least sum alcohol consumed in the most amount of time,_ he thought idly, pinging his nail against the glass in a pattern to the tune being sung outside. A ballad of a lost princess or something. He lost track of the love songs; he didn't exactly have need of them yet.

Adelaide and the other girl stood to leave, smiling and exchanging farewells with Samantha who was only just starting on her fourth drink since eleven. She called goodbye, loudly, back at them as they left, then took another healthy drink of the liquid. Johnathon contemplated whether she was inebriated enough to recognize him. He didn't exactly want to confront one of the only people who thought kissing Katharine had been a brilliant idea, but he didn't trust her by herself. At least the girls would have kept her from doing anything ludicrous. _Not that I particularly care about her embarrassing herself,_ he thought with a hint of a smile, _but she might regret something later._

His chivalry overcame his self-preservation, and he stood from the bar with his tumbler and made his way to her side of the bar. He slid into a seat beside her, making eye contact for half of a moment. Her eyes were unfocused.

"Hey, handsome," she giggled, tipping her head against his shoulder.

"Hello," he said amiably, steering her upright and twisting her fingers around the handle of her mug once more before they did something of their own accord.

"What brings you to my part of the counter?" she asked him, her voice impossibly easy to understand for someone as drunk as she was.

"Why, is this seat taken?" he retorted, taking an infinitesimal sip.

"Not particularly," she conceded with an obscene giggle, diving under for a long gulp.

When she surfaced, a small dribble hung on the bottom of her chin. He indicated she had something on her chin, forgetting that she probably couldn't see worth anything out of those poor eyes, once so pretty. He slipped a napkin from the empty place next to him and wiped it away, feeling oddly protective of the helpless woman next to him.

"Thanks," she giggled dreamily, dropping her head onto his shoulder again.

She was starting to tire. _Good. Maybe I will get some sleep after all._ He straightened her again.

"You're awful nice," she commented. "What's your name?"

"Something ordinary," he said evasively.

"You're playing hard to get," she said, completely off the mark, but her eyes brightened.

He groaned.

"No, I'm not," he said, but she took little notice of him.

She took another draft of her drink, then adeptly lifted herself off the chair and dropped herself into his lap, winding her arm around his neck. The alcohol on her breath was unbearable.

"You are," she whispered, giggling madly, and pushed her mouth against his.

There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to, so the only choice he had was to pull away as best he could when the woman was on his lap. He employed this tactic with little success. She leaned with him, pulling his head closer to her. He turned his head to the side and pressed three fingers to her mouth, before she could attack again. His mouth was penetrated with alcohol. _Probably more than I've had all day,_ he thought.

"Samantha, you don't know what you're doing," he said, doing an enviable job of pretending drunk women plopped onto his lap and kissed him all the time.

"Oh, you know me!" she cried, giggling. Her lids were falling , closing a little more each time she blinked. "But I don't know you..."

Her head lolled against his chest with a solid thump. Sighing with relief, he stood, one arm in the crook of her knees and the other supporting her back. It was a short coach ride to the servants' entrance of Allearsi, and the driver tactfully made no mention of the questionable woman. Possibly, he had witnessed Samantha being carried home by other men or friends before.

Once at the castle, he laid her down in her rotating room, this time closest to the Prince's chamber. He was careful to cover her with a blanket, in case she would wake up cold. Smoothing it out, he felt that strange urge of protection again. He was simultaneously amused and mildly annoyed with her irresponsible behavior. Part of him, perhaps, wished to be able to be as daring as she, without the wild consequences that would surely follow him if he tried.

On impulse, he bent over and kissed her cheek.

"Sleep well, lovely one," he whispered, glad his pitiful endearment fell on deaf ears.

* * *

**Coming next: Alternate beginning to I Do**


	13. Alternate Beginning

**Title: Alternate Beginning**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: These are a few snippets from the very beginning of I Do's conception. My original thought was first person from Katharine's perspective, and I ended up writing third person, mostly from Rod's perspective. How's that for a change? Both personalities went through a **_**radical**_** makeover, too. So, this is mainly for you to laugh at.**

* * *

"Do you, Prince Roderic Franklin Alaciea of Ellespeth take Princess Katharine Florette O'Dinas of Terriot to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," the man said steadily, looking just to the left of the pretty blonde's eyes, masked by the veil.

"And do you, Princess Katharine Florette O'Dinas of Terriot take Prince Roderic Franklin Alaciea of Ellespeth to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," the girl said with a small nod.

Behind them the crowd waited, an expectant hush befalling them.

"Then, by the power avested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

The priest smiled faintly as the crowd erupted in cheers and the man carefully lifted the veil.

The Prince kissed the Princess and they were married, ready to live happily every after.

Right?

Not quite.

That was only part of the story -- the end of one tale and the beginning of another. The first story you've heard multiple times I am sure, though it has been given a new ending than this every time. The princess is arranged to marry the prince and they've never met. The princess is devastated because she already has a secret lover with some member of the community lower than herself in rank (mine was a messenger) and so does the Prince. They either a) manage to circumvent the marriage and live happily ever after with their beloved b) discover that their beloveds are actually each other and get married and live happily ever after c) go through horrible grief when both beloveds are killed, then fall in love with each other and live happily ever after or d) run away and meet each other in their travels, forgetting about their beloveds (who never loved them anyway) and then returning to marry and live happily ever after. My story is e) none of the above. But it's important too; it teaches the valuable lesson that love is sometimes better earned than found, and a relationship worked for is sweeter than one that falls into place.

His kiss was awkward, so unlike Samuel's I realized with a pang as he pulled away. But it wasn't wet, which was most definitely an advantage when there's no way to surreptitiously wipe your lipsticked mouth with your white gloved hand in front of a huge crowd of people that had gathered to see the joining of two countries. The fact that I didn't know the man helped none. He took my elbow and we walked back down the aisle and out the church doors, smiling hugely for appearance and dodging the shower of rice as it cascaded from the observers in the balcony. There was a stark white carriage, drawn by two white horses and driven by a man in a white uniform waiting for us. Between that and my dress, I was beginning to get a headache from so much white.

Roderic -- my husband, I said to myself, trying the word out in my mind -- helped me into the carriage, not so much as making eye contact with me, and then got in himself, letting the driver gently close the door. We began to move forward and each leaned out our respective windows, waving to the mass of people that had gathered along the roads to bid us good luck. Really, they were smiling in relief that the country had been saved, but that was what I was doing too, so they shan't be blamed for that. That small thought did remind me of the purpose of our marriage and I did actually smile. Terriot, my dear Terriot, it was safe at last!

Our marriage was a mutually beneficial one, and Roderic and I both agreed wholeheartedly to it. By our marriage, we joined our armies to fight as one (something that Terriot dearly needed) and opened the border for free trade, along with my dowry which included some huge number of pounds of grain and vegetables instead of gold or other wealth (something that Ellespeth dearly needed). The marriage was practical and direly necessary for the continuation of both countries, so Roderic and I agreed immediately, of course. I love my country fiercely, and I have heard that Roderic does as well. Two lives sacrificed for the well being of thousands of people is a bargain hardly found anywhere. And it's not even a total sacrifice, I have remind myself, I am going to be well defended and well taken care of. Sacrifice looks such a barbaric word, but I do hope you know that is not what my intent was.

I pulled my arm back into the window and set about fiddling with the handkerchief in my hands.

"I'm Roderic," Roderic said needlessly, surely for lack of inspiration of how else to begin, and held out his hand.

I blinked, then took his hand and shook it, venturing my name.

"Katharine."

Here we both looked squarely at each other for the first time and he smiled, a surprisingly boyish smile for such a hard, princely face.

"I apologize for not looking at you at all prior to this; Father insisted I mustn't as much as twitch throughout the entire ceremony, and when I get nervous I'm prone to laughter if I look at anyone."

"Oh," I said, mentally making a face. "Apology accepted."

Talker. Immature. Great. They said he was calm cool and collected!

"So, Katharine, I don't know that much about you."

Okay, he was getting on my nerves. Heard of subtlety, Roddy?

"Neither I, you," I replied.

He chuckled.

"True. But I asked you first, and you are the lady. Please do go first."

And he was resorting to childish tactics. I asked you first indeed. This was going to be more of a sacrifice than I originally thought.

I started slowly, gathering up exactly what to say while keeping the glare in check.

"Well..."

* * *

**(This next bit is a continuation of the scene, but switched to the third person.)**

* * *

"I like to sew, embroider, and read," she said somewhat awkwardly. "I believe that's what the delegates told you.

"Yes," he said, eyes still fixed on the glove she was fidgeting with. "And they told you I enjoy swordplay and jousting."

"Indeed they did, milord."

He looked into her eyes as she said that, which surprised her. It was the first time he'd looked at her straight on. His eyes were a very dark green, contrasting with his tamed, blond curls.

Green. Of course.

"I would that you would call me Roderic, by your leave," he said hesitantly.

"If you wish it so," she replied, dropping her eyes.

This was awkward and she knew it. She was unused to male company, save that of Samuel. Her heart fluttered painfully as she vividly recalled his soft brown hair and electric green eyes, the gentle roughness of his hand as it brushed hair behind her ear, and that coy, smirking mouth that dared her to kiss him. On that day – was it only yesterday? – he had smoothed tears from her face with his calloused fingers and tried to allay her fears.

"Have no fear, Kattie," he had said. "I've met this man, and he has a good heart. You need only to teach him how to speak to people; he's very shy. But, he will honor you and respect you. Do you believe me?"

She nodded and let out a shaking breath.

"This time tomorrow, I will be married," she stated, plain as the weather.

"You will," he said quietly, the pain showing his eyes. "You must have one last thing to remember me by."

He encircled her body with his strong arms, cradling her, and gently kissed her for the last time. She committed the scene to memory before her pulled away, noting the tenderness in the warm pressure of his lips on her own.

"My lady, are you alright?" Roderic's voice was concerned.

She saw a teardrop domed on her glove and brushed it away.

"I am homesick. My deepest apologies," she lied easily.

Oh how easy to slip the mask on after you get used to the strap's rubbing.

"I understand," he said, looking for a moment like he might understand a whole lot more than she wanted him to. "No apologies need be made."

They sat in semi-awkward silence for several more minutes.

"We're almost there," Roderic said, with the distinct aura of someone who can't think of anything to say.

She looked out the window at the rolling hills, and past them to the castle. She saw some horses in a paddock.

"Do you ride, Roderic?" she asked.

"Some," he admitted, leaning over to admire the horses as well.

She tried not to notice the tickly scent that wafted from him as they silently watched the horses. There was a pretty bay rubbing noses with a large black stallion. She turned her attention to the manicured gardens that were sweeping past. A splash of poppies glowed like a patch of rubies among the amethyst and topaz.

"This is our temporary home," Roderic said, jerking Katharine from her thoughts and motioning out the window.

They were approaching a castle, small, yet beautiful and welcoming. It was made with friendly grey stones and cheery, red tiling on the roof. She could see even from this distance the sparkling of the stained glass windows and the brightly colored flags as they waved loosely in the slight breeze.

"How do you like it?" he asked quietly. "Is it fit for a bride?"

"It will do," Katharine said simply.

The castle was not as elegant as her own, or as Roderic's, but it was only a temporary home, as Roderic had said. Both countries were near the end of the building of a magnificent palace, right on the border of both countries, where the royal couple would live out their reigns.

"It's not the prettiest thing, I know," Roderic said, sensing the disapproval in her voice, "but Father says it will only be for a few months."

He smiled in apology and squeezed her hand briefly.

"But a face as radiant as yours will surely make the whole of it more beautiful."

"Thank you, your highness," Katharine said politely, moving her hand surreptitiously onto her lap.

* * *

"This is your royal bedchamber," the kindly handmaiden said respectfully, opening the door to reveal a grandiose room. It was decorated in shimmering gold and crisp blue; portraits of both of their parents and grandparents hung on the wall, the stately faces looking down on them with something akin to disdain.

"Is it just me, or are you too somewhat disturbed at having your parents watch over you while you sleep?" Roderic asked with an odd face.

"Yes, my lord," Katharine agreed, barely keeping herself from pulling a face as well.

"Maiden!" Roderic called.

The girl appeared at the doorway in an instant.

"Take these paintings and have them hung in the hall. Replace them with paintings of... scenery?"

He looked at Katharine for approval.

"Whatever you will, my lord," she said.

"Yes, scenery then. Trees, beaches, anything. Just get rid of these."

The girl nodded and curtsied.

* * *

**Clarification: Katty's "Samuel" is not "Hammond" in the real story; when I changed her personality, the sad fate of her lover changed as well. Samuel was going to be a messenger who lives, whereas I was envisioning Hammond as more of a commoner. And, Hammond didn't survive to Katty's wedding day, as we all know.**

**Coming next: The morning Rod left for war**


	14. Morning Rod Left

**Title: Morning Rod Left**

**Type: Deleted Scene**

**Explanation: ****This is the morning Roderic left for war, after he told Katharine he loved her and then found her kissing Johnathon. I deleted it... I actually don't really know why. I probably forgot to put it in, honestly. I kind of liked it, too. Oh well. Perhaps I'll slide it in on the rewrite. Enjoy!**

* * *

The sun was safely lingering below the horizon when Roderic pulled himself out of bed the next morning, wide awake. He hadn't slept well, as every dreaming moment showed countrymen arming for battle or people mourning over one thing or another, and every non-dreaming moment had been occupied with visions of Katharine and Johnathon.

He glanced over at Katharine, peaceful in sleep as usual, though she appeared more mussed. She must have had a bad night, too.

_She probably wished I had not seen that,_ he considered bitterly, _and that it was Johnathon in my place._

He shook those thoughts from his consciousness resolutely and dressed as silently as he could. He was slipping out the door at the same time a maid was making her way in to wake up Katharine. There was to be a farewell procession for him, and Roderic was dreading the awkwardness.

After a quick breakfast, he was escorted to the gates where his horse was waiting, along with his escorts. A small group of staff were there, and Katharine was as well. She dressed in pale green, a shade that set off her dark hair excellently, Roderic couldn't help but notice. It fluttered softly about her in the pre-dawn chill, making her shiver slightly.

They made eye contact, and Roderic pursed his lips. The mask was there, and not even her eyes gleamed.

"Good bye, my love, and be safe," she said, a quaver in her voice.

"I will," he agreed, knowing her words must be fake, and took her hand, squeezing it for a moment.

She surprised him by latching onto him tightly, her other arm holding him closely to her as she turned her face away and let it rest on his beating heart for a moment. His left hand still was wrapped around her own. She took a shaky breath, then released him, eyes downcast, the perfect image of brave grief.

He mounted his horse and they rode away without a backward glance.

* * *

**Coming next: Roderic likes **_**Enchanted**_


End file.
